


I'm Angry

by Loverontheleft



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Sex, Sex Toys, discussion of spanking, mild choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 11:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverontheleft/pseuds/Loverontheleft
Summary: Word count: 2.4kI don’t know how I feel about this one actually. I started off really happy with it and now I just don’t know.





	I'm Angry

**Author's Note:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

“I’m punching you.”

“Yes baby, I can see that. May I ask why?”

“Because I’m angry.” You stress the last word and land a few more punches. “I’m angry,” you repeat and Brendon looks concerned.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t play dumb Urie, you know full well,” you scoff as you take up punching again. “You know exactly what happened today.”

“I really don’t,” Brendon says, a bit more concerned now. “What happened?”

“You,” you spit, “you had the nerve - the audacity - the brazenness to- to-“

“Baby, whatever I did, I didn’t mean to-“

“Those photos!”

Brendon stops, looks at you, head cocked in confusion. “Photos?”

“Your shoot,” and you punch him, “with fucking billboard,” and you punch again, “released today and,” you punch again and he’s starting to catch on, which means he’s starting to look both annoyed and amused, “you look so fucking sexy and I can’t- I’m so-“ you punch him one last time before he grabs both of your wrists, and holds them in his hands. “Oh.” The word leaves you as a soft sigh and his eyes darken. He backs you against the wall and pins your wrists over your head.

“Are you going to keep punching me if I let you go?”

“Probably,” you admit, breathing hard and Brendon laughs, shooting a look at his friend.

“Dillon, can we have the room?” Brendon turns back to eye you meaningfully. “I need to have a conversation with my wife.” Dillon laughs to himself and grabs his things, leaving in a hurry. Once he’s gone, Brendon rests his entire body weight against you, keeping you pressed to the wall, wrists still above your head. “Do I need to get Penny’s thunder blanket? Will that calm you down?” He’s amused and you’re frustrated, squirming against him. He starts to get hard; you feel the stirring, but it only makes you angrier.

“No, it won’t.”

“Then I’m going to keep you against this wall,” Brendon tells you, forehead resting against yours, lips barely brushing yours. “Until you can calm down.”

“I’m so fucking ang-“

“You mentioned that. You didn’t explain why,” Brendon points out. “Only that my photo shoot came out today.”

“And you look so-“

“So you’re punching me.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you nod. “I’ll be honest; I don’t see the logic, Y/n.”

“You’re so fucking sexy it defies logic and it makes me angry sometimes. I mean - what the actual fuck,” your breathing is picking up again and he leans against you more firmly. “How dare you look like that and not give me any warning I mean Jesus I thought I was gonna - okay that thunder blanket might be a good idea,” you admit.

“I don’t think it’ll cover enough of you to make a difference,” Brendon tells you. “But I have a suggestion.”

-||-

“You’re my thunder blanket?” You giggle as he lays on top of you, both of you still fully clothed. He’s still got your wrists over your head and, between that and the way his pelvis is pressed against yours, you’re not going anywhere.

“I’m your thunder blanket,” Brendon confirms. “You need to calm down and my entire body weight is the next best thing to a weighted blanket.”

“I’d argue,” you counter, “your entire body weight is better than a weighted blanket.” You crane your neck to kiss his. “Because while I could do this with a weighted blanket, it’s way more fun with you.”

“I can think of a lot of things that are way more fun with me,” Brendon says with a smirk. “Are you calm?”

“No,” you admit. “Even now, looking at you, I’m so fucking angry that you- you just - you fucking look like this - I mean, who gave you the right to be so- so goddamn- I’m angry, okay?”

“Are you always this angry when you see me?” Brendon inquires in an almost neutral tone. “Because that’s something we should probably discuss if my very appearance enrages you.”

“Only rarely does my sexual attraction manifest as anger,” you tell him. “But when it does - god - I just - you’re so- you just look like this! You wake up fucking gorgeous without doing shit and then you get dressed and you look so fucking sexy and I just want to hit you because it’s not fucking fair that you just-“

“Look like this?” He asks drily and you nod, panting. “I’m getting that vibe. So, what do you propose we do about this?” He’s still laying on top of you on the floor of his studio and your hands are still pinned over your head and you’re so fucking turned on by him that you can barely think straight. “How do you normally solve this little problem?”

“Well,” you admit, “this is the first time it’s happened while you’ve been home- you’re usually on tour - so normally when it happens, I go and lock myself in our room and put on one of your shirts and masturbate to whatever photo set me off in the first place until I can’t take it anymore and then I fall asleep and when I wake up I’m usually better. Calmer. And,” you pause. “Then I’ll call you and we’ll have phone or FaceTime sex.”

“Jesus Christ,” Brendon whispers and you can feel his cock flex against you. He’s so hard and you’re so wet and what you wouldn’t give to- “I’d hate to ruin your routine.” His murmur is low in your ear and you whimper. “How about I take you inside and you can show me?”

-||-

You’ve settled into bed and are pulling on the shirt he’s offering you - the one he just stripped off while you shed your clothes as well. You grab a second hair tie and tighten the shirt by gathering the hem and twisting before wrapping the hair tie around it. At his questioning look, you smile. “I like the shirt tight so it really rubs against my nipples when they’re hard.”

“Fuck,” Brendon whispers, eyes wide. You grin and grab your phone, scrolling before showing him the photo.

“This. This is why I’m so angry.” He chuckles and you look offended. “I’m sorry, I don’t see what’s so funny. You’re fucking sexy as hell.”

“I just-“ he shrugs. “I can’t say that about myself. I’m such a goofy guy; I don’t see myself as sexy.”

“You’re too modest,” you inform him, groping for your vibrator. “Too modest and too sexy.” You switch it on and lean over to kiss him fiercely. “Normally I don’t get to kiss you, so this is not part of my routine but fuck it; I want your mouth.” He moans into your kiss and shifts to hover over you, hands roaming over your chest and waist and hip, pulling you close. “Now,” you murmur, pressing the tip against yourself. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

Brendon’s tongue moves down your neck while his fingers press into your hip. “So fucking sexy,” he groans, and you can feel his erection against your thigh. “How many times do you usually come before you call me?”

“Usually,” you pause to catch your breath as your hips buck hard, “usually four or five.”

“Fuck,” Brendon sighs, “that’s a while before I get to play.”

“I’ll meet you in the middle with two,” you offer, and he grins, kissing your forehead.

“Deal.” He settles onto his side to nestle against you, mouth returning to your neck and shoulder while his fingers spread around the vibrator. “Just wanna feel it, hot and slick with you,” he tells you softly, eyes heavy. “Fucking love you.”

“I love you too- oh- oh god- I’m - Brendon - will you-?”

“Tell me what you need,” he says firmly, shifting up higher on one arm to meet your eyes. “Tell me what you need and I’ll-“

“Mouth. Nipples.”

“Through the shirt or shirt off?”

“Through the shirt,” you gasp, back arching as his lips close around your left nipple, tongue laving over it repeatedly before sucking gently. “Yes, baby,” you sigh, taking the hand previously tangled in the sheets and gripping his hair, pressing his mouth closer. “Just like that.”

“So sexy,” Brendon says, muffled from your breast, but his eyes on yours translate if he was unclear. His hips press forward and you can feel him, hard, against you.

“Fuck,” you whine as your first of the night hits and Brendon gasps with you, sucking harder, fingers teasing your right breast, pinching and rolling gently. “You’re so-“ and your eyes fly between the photo of him on your phone and the real him, eyes shut as he moans around your nipple. “So fucking- oh god-“ you break off suddenly, a wordless cry ripping through you. “Fuck, fuck me,” you gasp and you grab his arm, tugging urgently. “Take me.”

He pulls away from your chest and groans, watching as you pull the toy out. “Fuck, baby,” he hisses before gripping your hair tightly, eliciting a sharp moan from you. “Know you love that,” he says with a grin as he aligns his cock with your entrance and pushing in gently. “As much as I do.”

“Yeah,” you gasp, writhing under him. “Fuck me, pull my hair, fuck me, Brendon.”

“And you fucking beg for it,” he groans, “fucking love that. Beg, baby.”

“Bren, please,” you whimper, “you feel so good. Fuck me. Fuck me hard, pull my hair, choke me, spank me, Brendon please -“

“Gonna fuck the anger out of you?” He says with a breathless laugh. “Is that how that works?”

“Yeah,” you moan, dipping your back to make space between your stomachs and rocking your hips up to take him deeper. “Take me, be rough with me.”

“If I’m gonna pull your hair or choke you or spank you or be rough with you, I’m gonna need a hand, which means I’ll only be able to hold your hands with one. You gonna try to take control?”

“No,” you gasp, “no, I’ll be good.”

“Yeah you will, you’ll be a good girl, won’t you? You’ll let me be in charge?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, just fuck me, please.”

“Turn over.” His voice is soft but firm and you catch your breath as he pulls out of you. “Over.” He frees your hands and you roll onto your stomach, whimpering when he grabs your hips and shoves a pillow under them so you’re at a better angle for him. He stretches back out over you, sliding into your heat and locking your wrists in place over your head with one hand. The other hand digs into your hip as his teeth sink into your neck. “Stay,” he groans against you as his hips snap forward, entire body flush against yours.

“B-“

“Hush,” he tells you. “Don’t move, unless you’re fucking yourself back on my cock.”

“Fuck, Brendon-“ you gasp into the pillow. “My pussy-“

He groans and takes the hand from your hip and pulls your hair firmly. “I said hush.” You whimper and feel yourself tighten around him and he grunts in your ear. “God, baby, so fucking sexy. Gonna come for me?” You don’t speak and he nips at your earlobe. “I asked you a question.” His hips rock forward again and you choke back a cry of pleasure. “Answer me.”

“You gonna punish me if I talk?” You smile into the pillow.

“You want me to?” His hand tightens around your wrists as he picks up the pace.

“Yeah,” you admit, rocking back hard. He licks the shell of your ear, grinding into you roughly. “Please.”

“Up.” You hesitate and he tugs your hair again. “I said up.” You arch your hips up and he flips your vibrator on and shoves it under you, finding your clit. You squeal and his hand pushes you back down so you’re flush against the vibrator and he’s groaning in your ear. “You’re not allowed to come.”

“Brendon!”

“You wanted to be punished,” he tells you, hips stilling and sighing in pleasure when you tighten around him. “I’m gonna come in you and you can’t come.”

“Baby-“

“You’re gonna come into my studio, when I’m working, start punching me because of how sexy you find me, then expect to get fucked and you want to come?”

“Ye-“

“Don’t talk. You don’t get to talk and you don’t get to come until I’m done with you.” He smirks against your neck and licks you again.

“N-“

“Don’t. Talk.” He repeats, rhythm faltering. “Gonna come in you. Take it.” You gasp as he shudders over you. “Good girl,” he murmurs as he finishes, moving the hand from your hip to your throat and squeezing gently. “Now you can come.” His grip tightens and you gasp your orgasm, a broken squeal ripping from your throat. “Come, baby.” You buck against him roughly. “Tighter?” He whispers in your ear and you nod. He bites your earlobe and sucks hard while the hand around your throat tightens further.

“Oh shit,” you choke, and his hand loosens when your hips fall against the bed. “Brendon,” you whimper and he pulls out of you, rolling onto his back. “Baby,” you moan, curling into his side. “I’m sorry I was being crazy.”

“Crazy can be fun,” Brendon says with a laugh. “I’d rather you be this kind of crazy than any other kind.”

“Yeah?” You smile at him, running a hand through his hair. “You like my crazy?”

“I don't know...you punched me for being sexy.”

“And?”

“I’d rather you just fuck me,” Brendon says with a grin. “But if I have to get punched for it…well. You’re worth it.” He pauses and his lips meet yours. “Am I allowed to be angry at how sexy you are?”

“It seems only fair,” you admit, rolling onto your back and stretching out, his shirt going taut across your chest.

“I’m angry,” Brendon deadpans, giving your hair a tug. “I won’t punch you, but I’m angry. You’re so sexy and I’m angry.”

“Better let me fuck the anger away then,” you say with a smirk, flipping over and straddling him.

“Guess I’d better,” he says in a faux long-suffering voice, tugging your hair as you settle on top of him. “Fuck me good, honey, I’m so fucking angry.”


End file.
